Arrowheads

We may buy us an A-frame

on Jericho Road,

where few that pass by are strangers,

near that little clutch of houses

called Greer, for those who farmed

the land 200 years.

In the bottomland by the Mohican,

the corn shocks stand dry and mute.

They used to hunt here, but they are gone.

We now and then kick up an A-shaped flint.

Sometimes at dusk 

it is easy to think

that the shocks are silent, 

ancient watchers,

but they are gone now

who once walked this land

and took the deer

with bow and arrow.

There once was a man 

who hunted on our posted lands,

and when another came,

his license on his back,

this man complained.

"He seems to think,"

laughed Alice Greer,

"that in Knox County

all the deer are his."